


Muse

by FloweryAlien



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: AU, Blanket Permission, Fashion Design, Fashion Week, Human AU, M/M, Medic - Freeform, Models, Modern AU, Oneshot, Runway - Freeform, famous designer Garak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3516347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloweryAlien/pseuds/FloweryAlien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the 21'st century a lone medic, (Julian Bashir) must face the world of fashion and the strange designer human!Garak who sees the young medic as his new muse!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muse

**Author's Note:**

> ~~~~~~~~~  
> [One-Shot]  
> ~~~~~~~~~

Fashion, it used to be used as a mask.  A mask created to protect myself from the truth.

Fashion, was a lie I created so I wouldn't have to live the past, but live a new one. However, eventually it became me, it is now my life. For a time my past was my only muse.

But, the thing about fashion is that a new muse can come up at any moment especially from an unlikely source.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 _How did I ever end up 'here'?_ He thought as swarms of, rather glitzy and glamorous people rushed past him almost slamming him on a nearby wall, located behind him. He decided it was best to remain where he was, rather than be crushed by the swift crowd.

The people around him where strange almost as much as the atmosphere itself. They wear large chunky jewelry, most having multi-colored hair adorned with even more. Simply put they where, excessive.

To be honest his situation wouldn't be that bad if the music wasn't so loud and if he knew at least someone in the swarm of strangers. Though, this was to be expected he was a doctor not a designer, after all.

He was starring over at the runway that extended down the middle of the room, bright lights lit it from the ceiling causing it to glow a bright, almost blinding white.

He quickly turned when he felt a soft tap on his arm and question directed towards him over the blasting music, "Hay, are you new here?!"

He looked to see a woman, no doubt a model by her styled hair and expensive looking clothing that exposed her chest almost too much to be acceptable.

Julian straitened his uniform. "Um . . yes-yes I am. I'm here as an on-site medic. . . Julian Bashir." He held out his hand.

"I thought so, I'm Leeta!" She took his hand shaking it gracefully. "Well, what do you think?!" she waved her hand out in a panoramic movement over the hustle and bustle that surrounded them.

"It's . . . .interesting, but I'm not sure I understand it!" Bashir admitted.

Leeta giggled, muffled by the blasting music. "Where preparing for a new show, there's going to be _tuns_ of new and upcoming designers, models, as well as famous well-known ones!"

"Really?!" Julian tried to sound amazed.

She nodded giddily, "In fact I'm modeling for a famous designer!"

"Congratulations!" He said awkwardly; still confused.

Suddenly a woman in the crowd with bright pink hair waved towards them. Leeta noticed and waved back in affirmation. She looked back to a still confused Bashir, "Well I got to go, wish me luck!"

He only nodded. Then she left and he was alone in the crowd once again.

Becoming bored he left his safe spot and began to walk towards the runway.

None of this stood out to him. It all looked like . . cloths whereas some of the things he wouldn't even imagine a person wearing. However, Julian began noticing a group of models that stood out from the others -they where wearing jewelry made of black stones cut in irregular diamond shapes attached from chains dangling around their necks- standing off in the corner. A group of people had started to mass around them, most gasping in awe.

A young photographer happened to be standing next to Julian was also gaping towards the group. His face up in what looked to be admiration.

_He should have some answers._

"Excuse me!"

The young man turned, "Oh . . .Yes?!"

Slowly Julian noticed the music beginning to quite down.

"Do you know why those people are all wearing those black stones?"

The photographer stared at him in almost ridicule, "You don't know? Their wearing Obsidians. It's to promote a new collection by 'Garak' of the same name."

Julian surprisingly founding himself curious about the gleaming ebony rhombuses dangling from the groups ears and as belts around their waists.

It was strangely eye-catching especially since Bashir new next to nothing about any fashion trend or style. There was just something about it.

"Is this, . . . Garak famous?" Bashir asked without looking at the young photographer, still gazing towards the models.

"Of course, 'Obsidian' is one of the most anticipated collections of the season. It truly is mesmerizing!" He lifted his camera then mumbled, "I just hope I can get some good shots."

Julian turned back to him, only to see the photographer franticly lifting his camera up to the runway, the shudder continuously clicking.

More and more photographers started to run up around him towards the runway doing the same.

Julian stepped out of the way quickly, he stopped when he was about ten feet away from the catwalk and frantic paparazzi.

He looked up at the runway when something caught his eye, the reason why the photographers where all conglomerating.

His eyes widened in awe at the ethereal model coming down the runway. Surprisingly it wasn't the model that was capturing his attention, but the dress as which she was wearing.

It looked almost as if it was made of air. As the model walked the fabric seemed to float in an ivory cloud. It was made even more beautiful by the diamond shaped cut that lead from her neck to her waist. It all was juxed apposed by a double silver chain that led down to that large asymmetrical obsidian stone that shimmered at the models naval. It was one of the same clothing he had noticed before.

Bashir found himself unable to turn away the effect the dresses had when in movement, they where even more beautiful on the runway.

That stone was so fitting for the dress, yet it was almost like it was out of place. Like it belonged somewhere else. Julian found it odd.

The young doctor's bewilderment was so much that he didn't relies the presence of a man standing next to him.

"Lovely isn't it?" A voice solemnly said to his left.

Julian almost jumped as he turned to see a ivory-skinned-middle aged man, his black hair was slicked back almost to his shoulders. His neck was covered to his chin in an expensive looking tan scarf.

The man continued to look at the dress, almost proudly.

Julian's eyes followed his gaze then back to the man, "Um, yes . . yes it is."

_Who is this guy?_

His head quickly turned to Bashir, the man's eyes, (that where a bright blue) stared into Julian. He clearly looked pleased, "You really think so?"

Bashir looked back up at the garment, "Yes, I do." The stones itched at the back of his mind, "But, it seems so sad."

"Oh . . . . how so?" The man asked with an almost predatory smile.

Julian stared at him slightly embarrassed, "I guess because of the stone, the . . . Obsidian, it just seems like it's almost lost in the rest of the clothing."

The black haired man's eyes widened and for a moment he seemed astonished at the young man's statement, but his expression returned to the mischievous one he had previously. "Interesting." he almost mumbled

Abruptly Julian realized he had not introduced himself, "Oh . . . Sorry, I'm doctor Julian Bashir . . . the on-site medic for the show."

"Garak. Just Garak, It is a pleasure to meet you, Doctor."

Julian felt a shock run strait through him as the name jolted through him. This man, the one who decided to talk to _him_ was the person who designed the magnificent dress that had caught his attention.

"You-" Julian stammered.

"Yes, as a matter-of-fact I did. . ." Garak leaned in - only a little to close for Julian's taste- , "And I would love to hear your input on my _other_ designs." He smiled predatorily, blue eyes searching Bashir's.

Bashir could only gulp feeling his face turn red, "Uh . . . But, I'm not a fashion designer I'm just a-".

Garak held up a hand, "True, however it would mean a lot to me to have an outside opinion. Plus out of the entire room you where the only one to point that out." He smiled warmly, "I do hope I see you around, my dear."

Then the designer turned and went back into the crowd leaving a bewildered Doctor lost in his thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to continue this story or add to it, go right ahead^^


End file.
